


Goof Juice

by thecarlysutra



Category: Homicide: Life on the Street
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-05
Updated: 2011-11-05
Packaged: 2017-10-25 17:49:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/273073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecarlysutra/pseuds/thecarlysutra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SUMMARY: The nurses up Lewis' morphine.  There are complications.<br/>TIMELINE: Takes place after "Wanted Dead or Alive (Part Two)"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Goof Juice

  
Lewis woke to a soft world. The edges of the machines beeping at his head were blurred, the lines marking his heartbeat a red fuzz. The hospital bed cradling him was as supple as a cloud. A really annoyed guy was standing beside his bed.

Wait.

Lewis squinted through the fog, aiming for veracity. The lines sharpened up a bit. The annoyed guy’s frown deepened, and he rearranged his weight, stuck his hands on his hips.

“Mikey?” Lewis asked. Vision couldn’t be trusted.

Kellerman took a step forward, toward the bed. “I told you your driving was going to land someone in the hospital.”

“I wasn’t even driving this time; I have been replaced as worst driver in the department.” Kellerman didn’t say anything; Lewis frowned. “What are you doing here?”

Kellerman’s eyebrows shot up. “You called me. Eleven times, in the middle of the night.”

“I most certainly did not.”

Kellerman coughed out a laugh. “You know, I thought you might say that, so I brought the tape from my answering machine.” He produced a handheld tape player, gave it a little tap. “Evidence.”

Kellerman pressed ‘play.’ The tape hissed to life.

Kellerman’s voice, the standard “leave a message after the beep.” Then the beep. Then a slightly slurred, prodding voice that Lewis had to admit sounded an awful lot like his own. “Hey, Mikey. Mikey, answer the phone. That is the message I am leaving you: pick. Up. The phone.” A click. Then, “What, like you not home? I’m trying to talk to you, pick up the phone.” Click. “Mikeeeeeeeeeey.” Click.

Lewis held up his hands in surrender. “All right, all right, I believe you.”

“Are you sure?” Kellerman asked. “’Cuz I could keep going.”

He shut the tape player off, though.

“So I called you a few times,” Lewis said.

“Eleven.”

Lewis shrugged, and then flinched. Shrugging wasn’t going to be in his repertoire for a while. “So I called you eleven times.”

“Any idea what you may have wanted?”

Lewis gave his chin a little rub. “See, I been having trouble sleeping, so they upped my morphine. And I ain’t havin’ trouble sleeping no more, but I am having some trouble, you know, _remembering_.”

Kellerman sighed. “All right.” For a moment they just stood, held by the tense silence like mosquitoes trapped in amber. Finally, Kellerman spoke, his tone sharply edged, “You know what the worst part was?”

“What, you don’t like me giving you a ring now and then?”

“The worst part was, I called your house looking for you, to return your calls—you know, to get you to shut up. And there’s no one there, so I call the squad room, and all they’ll tell me is you’re not there, so I redial the number you called from—”

Lewis chuckled. “Those detective skills, Mikey.”

“—and I find out I’m calling the hospital. I gotta find out that way that you’re in the hospital.”

And Kellerman’s face fell, all the anger going out of it, and it looked like Lewis was used to seeing it these days—you know, back when he was used to seeing Kellerman—just sad, like there was no hope anywhere.

“Hey, now,” Lewis said, real gentle, “it ain’t terminal. I got some broken ribs and a broken head, here, but I’m walking outta here next week.”

Kellerman brought his shining eyes up, looked Lewis dead in the eye.

“Maybe what I’m broken up about is you have to be on goof juice to call me.”

And it wasn’t something that happened often, but Lewis was caught speechless, because when you’re right, you’re right. And he could have apologized, but maybe he wasn’t sorry, not for that, and there was no guarantee that Kellerman would believe him, anyhow. So instead he reached out a hand, and he waited for Kellerman to take it.

And he did.  



End file.
